SARASOTA, Fla. —John Royal, pastor of Peace Christian Fellowship, the largest church in the city, was long considered a pillar in the community.

Then he opened a Twitter account.

Now Royal’s random and frequent tweets are dimming his once-sterling reputation.

“We loved the idea of Pastor Royal tweeting nuggets of wisdom throughout the day,” says Carissa Black, one of several young staff members who urged Royal to embrace the new medium. “But he’s run away with it. It’s having the opposite effect we hoped for.”

Royal’s first tweets were conservative — scripture verses, previews of upcoming sermons and reminders about church events. Then, over time, his pace picked up considerably and his subject matter broadened.

“The tweets became less about wisdom and more about what he was thinking at any given moment,” says one follower. “The quality went down fast.”

Then, “Sometimes I feel like I’m not in my own body but just practicing somehow.”

And, “Saw a cute dog just now. Cute.”

And, “God loves me even when I watch Rockford Files reruns until midnight.”

“At first I thought it must be a different John Royal,” says an area pastor who has long admired Royal. “It was like, this is the guy who leads the mayor’s breakfast? This is what’s going on inside his head?”

Royal’s reputation as a quiet, thoughtful leader has taken a hit even among people who know him.

“It was weird to see him tweeting two or three times per hour,” says a member of Royal’s church. “I always pictured him studying the Bible and receiving grand visions of what God will do in our city. Now I know he likes ice cream before bed, gets excited about chicken dinner deals and wishes he had a better lawnmower.”

Royal lately has tweeted at what some consider inappropriate moments. Last week during the 9 o’clock Sunday morning service, people’s phones buzzed with tweet notifications. They realized Royal had just tweeted while preaching a sermon: “Just blew my second point. Oh well.”

The next day Royal tweeted at 3 a.m. “Advice: Don’t have a second glass of milk before bed.”

“It ruined my sleep,” says one woman who stopped following Royal at that point.

The church staff is in a panic. Royal now spends much of his day tracking retweets and followers. He was recently passed over to chair the citywide prayer meeting. That post will be filled by the Lutheran pastor who, coincidentally, has no presence on social media. Even the mayor has asked about some of Royal’s more bizarre tweets.

“People want to know, ‘Is he serious? Is this some sort of illustration of how diminishing social media can be?’” says one staffer. “We don’t know how to spin it.”

And Royal’s missives keep coming.

“Tweeting at red light. Oops. Sorry, occifer.”

“The bank teller just said something profound. Wish I could remember what it was.”

“If I was 20 again I know exactly what I’d do.”

“My wife just said — ah, forget it.”

Staff members are begging him to shut down his account and put the tweeting experiment behind him before he does permanent damage to his reputation. Royal could not be reached by phone for comment, but his secretary said he could “almost certainly be reached by tweeting him a direct message any time of day.” •